


Cataclysm (Or: It Often Comes in Twos).

by sixnumbers



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Asian Character(s), Black Character(s), Black Female Love Interest, Bodyguard Romance, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Friends to Lovers, May/December Relationship, Non-Explicit Sex, Older Man/Younger Woman, Original Character Death(s), Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28880331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixnumbers/pseuds/sixnumbers
Summary: Goro Takemura is one of the four sons in line to inherit the Kendachi Corporation, best known for weapon manufacturing. He does not expect to fall in love with a woman tasked to guard his life. He doesn't realize she'll have to do more.
Relationships: Goro Takemura/Female V
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	Cataclysm (Or: It Often Comes in Twos).

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't reference this in the story, but the succession line goes:  
> Tatsuyo (oldest)  
> Akira (second oldest)  
> Goro (middle)  
> Daichi (youngest).
> 
> I still don't have a reference point for Imani, I'm hoping to get a commission of her done at some point. I really like Imani's dynamic with Goro (especially since he's shorter than her, she's the tol here).
> 
> There's nothing super explicit in this besides a scene of female-receiving-oral-sex, but the rest I really just imply.
> 
> I just wanted to see the old man happy.

Goro realistically didn’t need much security, barely anyone knew who he was. Unlike Arasaka, Kendachi was better known in Japan than in the west. Being the third son of the founder was nothing special to those in Night City. But, it was better to be safe.

He took note of the new woman in security detail. She was tall and sharply dressed, the blackness of her suit accentuated with her emerald green blouse. Her skin was dark, a warm brown shade that only heightened the colors covering it. Her hair was braided tightly against her scalp into two ponytails.

“Good evening,” she said with a deep bow. She placed her hands over her heart while doing so. He noted her emerald nails, her one optical implant and one organic eye. “I’m Imani Norwood.”

“She’s just starting tonight, Takemura-san,” the leader of the detail, Kenji, stated plainly. “She comes highly recommended.”

“I used to work for Lizzy Wizzy,” she added, finally standing straight up. She towered over him somewhat, emphasised by her sturdy shoes. He noted her soft accent, unfamiliar to him, but it reminded him of old American movies. The tone in her voice was smooth and rich like whiskey.

“Was that difficult?”

Imani chuckled, just for a moment, before becoming serious again. “She’s a very serious woman, and her fans are intense.”

“I may be slightly less of an issue,” Takemura said with a slight smile, and Imani softly smiled back. It would be nice to have her around.

\--

It was two days before his nosiness overcame him, and he looked into her personnel file. A profile photo that was more striking than he expected, her good eye bright and soft brown in contrast to the cybernetic one. She was more made up in the photo, a dark red lip and eyeliner more intense than before. She wore what seemed to be a dress, defining her soft figure in a satiny black.

He quickly realized he was paying too much attention to the photo.

Imani had been a bodyguard for over a decade, well trained with guns as well as with blades. She was from the Republic of Texas, though she had spent the recent years in Night City. It explained the accent, slightly faded with time. She was an orphan from her teenage years, and had a sister. She was underestimating her time working: she had worked with Kerry Eurodyne, and other names he was only familiar with hearing in passing.

There were other photos. Her looking stern next to Ms. Wizzy, as well as a photo of her at a gala for a man he had never seen before. He doesn’t bother looking at his name. His focus was on her, how uncomfortable she looked in front of the paparazzi.

But she did look beautiful. He realized what he was doing again, and quickly closed the file.

As time went on, Goro noticed that Imani spoke little, though she was a strong listener. Being the only woman in the detail was likely the issue to her silence. She was stylish, often wearing suits to match the other men. He had overheard her lamenting that she couldn’t wear a dress, as it ruined the uniformity of the team. She had a joking lilt to her voice, and he thought the suits--suited her.

But there was always an edge to her. That made sense to him, given she was being paid to protect him. 

Goro appreciated her silence. Her focus was indomitable, often hearing or seeing things he paid no attention to. She would often quietly survey an area, hands ready to pull her gun out of its holster or sword from her back. He tried to avoid noticing how perfectly the holster sat on her hips, how the harness for her sword accentuated the curve of her waist.

She worked weekends, Mondays and Wednesdays at first, often accompanying him to do simple things. She drove him to the gym, to his office, to occasional meeting in the center of town, and business dinners. Every time, she drove him around Night City flawlessly, only somewhat too fast. She played jazz in the car, to his liking, but she would occasionally forget to switch over from whatever noisy music younger people played. She would apologize quickly and almost primly, sometimes in Japanese.

“It’s quite alright,” he would reassure her. Even though he was right next to her, he never touched her.

\---

It’s another two months before Imani actually used her skills on someone. She was his night shift now, and someone who would protect his home with three others. She patrolled the inside, monitoring the security cameras and windows, checking each room for any anomalies. 

Through his dream, he heard her voice. “Takemura-san, please wake up.” Her Japanese was tinged with kindness.

Goro woke up quickly, and Imani’s eyebrows were furrowed. “I have to get you into your panic room,” she stated clearly.

He groggily followed her, holding her hand as he followed her lead into his panic room. He felt no less of an old man next to her. She was nimble and effortless in movement, her hands minorly calloused. He was unsure when she received the hand grips, but they were only minorly scuffed. 

He doesn’t consider the last time he had held a beautiful woman’s hand, but put the thought aside as he used his handprint to enter the panic room. She looked at him with a serious look, nodding as the door closed.

He watched the firefight, the panic room outfitted with monitors. The opposing men dressed in all black, irrelevant against his bodyguards with implants. He was unsure if they were just robbers or something more nefarious. A war amongst the companies seemed unlikely, but there were numerous other actors in the world. Imani was quick, effortless with a gun, her voice suddenly strong and unwavering. She held position, loaded her gun as if it was part of her own body, shooting a man point blank and decapitating another when she ran out of ammo.

The fight lasted less than fifteen minutes.

When she arrived to retrieve him, she still had blood and viscera in her hair. “The area is secured again, Takemura-san.”

“You fought well,” and Imani softly bowed, leading him back into his bedroom. As she closed the door behind him, he worried about her barely there body tremble.

\--

It was another two months when he was made to return to Japan to be in a meeting. He disliked meetings, and was unsure why he was needed at all. While he was being groomed as a successor, he had other brothers. He was the middle child, not the oldest.

Imani and Kenji accompanied him.

She was surprisingly proficient around the new setting, and then he found it wasn’t new to her at all. Her celebrity clientele loved the energy of Tokyo, visiting frequently on world tours or just as long trips. While still somewhat stiff, she enjoyed the food that Goro has access to, seeming to relish every bowl and plate they eat.

They all shared a room, though the room is more like an apartment. The penthouse suite in the best hotel in Tokyo, as always. Kenji and Imani would take turns standing outside the door, and watching the windows. While Goro had known Kenji since he was a youth, his interests consisted of sports and action films, while Goro preferred cooking and classic films. Their conversations, while light hearted, often dwindled.

Imani, on the other hand, had slowly blossomed in front of him. While still mainly quiet, Imani and him spoke of music, wine, and the joys of silent film. He didn’t ask how she had come to find out so much about so much. 

As they spoke, he couldn’t help but notice how lovely Imani was under the shimmer of the city, the light catching her brown eyes and glimmering across her mahogany skin. It was late in their first night at the hotel when Goro paced in thought, considering what may be the motive behind his ‘mandatory’ trip.

“A marriage announcement?”

Goro shook his head. “Twice divorced, they would know better than arrange something with me when Daichi has better prospects.”

Imani nodded, hands clasped in her lap. “The only other options I could consider would be cataclysmic.”

“Yes,” Goro began, “I considered that as well.”

Imani turned her head to look at him, something she rarely did unless needed. He was even more struck by her, but hopefully hid his appreciation.

“Takemura-san, shouldn’t you be discussing this with Kenji?”

“Kenji is very close to the family and to Kendachi’s work, he once worked closely with my mother. He considers this a demotion.”

“I apologize.”

“There is nothing to apologize for,” and he realized that she spoke in Japanese instead of English. “While he may know a great deal about you, the same cannot be said for your knowledge of him.”

Imani nodded. “I do feel--odd, being an outsider amongst the team.”

“An outsider is what I need. You are not bound to traditions, or are stuck in your ways. It’s why I sought out someone new after Daisuke stepped down after his marriage.” Goro paused before he spoke again. “I appreciate all that you do for me.”

“Thank you,” she said warmly in English, and she turned her head back toward the window, standing up and walking closer to the glass. “Do you see that, sir?” She placed an elegant finger to the glass, the very tip of her nail pointing to something. 

Goro zoomed in and saw a swarm of police, not far away from the Kendachi building.

“I do not like how this looks,” he said sternly.

\--

The next day is a whirlwind. Charges are levied against many low-level executives in Kendachi, and his father is brought on to make a statement. It was an ugly affair, and marred the meeting entirely. One man, someone he was unfamiliar with named Yamamoto, had already committed suicide in jail. He wanted to ask if this was all planned, if he was being shuffled into a new role, what may happen now. But it was difficult to find an answer beyond “We will have to continue working toward a solution for you”.

Imani and Kenji were with the other bodyguards, on the edges of the meeting room. Imani stood in stark contrast to the others, being the only woman as well as one of the few darker-skinned guards. Goro noted her suit fitted perfectly to her soft curves--he reminded himself to un-note that. Her bright blue shirt and matching tie elevated her stylistically. He was proud to have her by his side.

Once the meeting adjourned, he looked for Imani and did not find her. Kenji assured him that Imani was retrieving the car, which he didn’t understand.

“She isn’t well versed in driving in Japan, I would think. You’ve lived here your--”

Kenji dismissed his concerns. “She’ll need to learn to continue working with us, Goro-san.”

The car waited in front of the doors to the secured underground parking lot of the building. Imani seemed frazzled as they got into the car, an emotion he had never seen on her before.

“Are you alright, Takemura-san,” she asked politely as he got into the car.

Goro put his head into his hands as Kenji closed the door. “We will see.”

\--

The trip back to Night City is effortless. Imani is sharply dressed for the private plane, and his assistant, Ayumi, talked to him over the phone with any new updates. Ayumi spoke at a lightning pace, but her work was immaculate.

The flight is long and Imani paced the plane with Kenji, checking in on the pilots and looking behind the doors. When she wasn’t patrolling aimlessly, she brought out a tablet to read. Goro wanted to ask what she did read, but did not wish to invite scrutiny from Kenji.

It was his first night home when he dreamed about her. 

In the dream, Imani slipped into his room and he could no longer hold back. Goro kissed her, her lips soft and smooth against his. 

In his dreams, she tasted like black coffee and spearmint, and her moans were divine in his ears. He hastily undressed her, knowing that her absence would be quickly noticed. 

He cannot deny himself touching her thighs, her soft breasts, watching her turn to putty underneath him. Her underwear is practically plain, solid black, but he pulls her bra cups aside to be met with her nipples, kissing and sucking them. 

He pulled off her panties and tastes her briefly, savoring her. He was selfish, soon pulling his own erection out to penetrate her, pinning her wrists down as he thrusted. In his dream-state head, he knew it was wrong, but he didn’t want to stop. She keened against him, called out his name and demanded he never let her go.

His orgasm woke him for the morning.

\--

It was two weeks later when the circus that was ‘the Kendachi arrests’ died down. Goro avoided most of it, as he had left the company to sort things out. There was still no sign of change for him, besides remaining an heir and secondary financial officer.

Imani had changed. In a way he was unable to pin, she had sharpened her edge, but had also become warmer. He would note her friendliness toward the other men on the team, though she was still lost on many of the Japanese jokes they bandied around. But she seemed more alert when they were out together, as if she was aware of a new threat. 

“Miss Norwood,” he began when she kept turning during another dinner with him "alone". She never ate with him, insisting that she would be happy to take a meal home and eat it in her off hours. She simply monitored. “Is there something I should be aware of?”

“Takemura-san,” she said with a level of tenseness she had never previously had. “Kenji advised me that there was a new threat against Kendachi executives and their families and to stay vigilant.”

“I see,” Goro said, dropping his voice. “Will detail be increased?”

“Starting tomorrow, sir.”

Goro nodded as Imani remained behind him, only somewhat more quietly.

For a long while, security is upped for Goro from two men to four men. Imani is only allowed to be with him on weekends. At work, he deeply missed her presence. Even her perfume, a scent he is unfamiliar with, doesn’t linger long enough on the things she touched.

But on weekends, her demeanor was still sharp and warm. Her suits are still crisp, her shirts a variety of red and greens. She is often close enough for him to have her full presence, the perfume, the smell of freshly dry-cleaned garments, and another soft scent that he presumed was whatever she used in her hair.

\--

After two months, they believe the threat to be neutralized. 

Mid-way into the third month, the very cataclysm Imani had warned about took place.

It was very late when Imani woke him and rushed Goro to get dressed and to grab his emergency bag. He hastily dressed in a dress shirt and jeans as Imani grabbed both bags, and ushered him out of the door and into a sedan that wasn’t his. He took note of her outfit, a pair of torn jeans, black jacket and deep cut t-shirt.

“Miss Norwood, please tell me what’s going on?”

Imani looked _panicked_ , an emotion she had never expressed before. Her good eye is blackened and her lip is busted. “Sir, please trust me. I can’t tell you right now, we need to get safe first.”

The bags were tossed into the backseat, and Imani drove her usual pace before driving fast as they left the gated neighborhood. She was somehow careful as she drove, even as she was pushing 80mph. The police department didn’t know this car, but Goro knew he could get them out of it.

It isn’t until they get to the outskirts of the glimmering city that she spoke.

“Kenji. I had gotten closer to him and found out his plan. He’s been behind all of this.”

Goro found that difficult to believe. “How am I to trust you?”

Imani hastily pulled out a data chip from her pocket, eyes never leaving the road. “All the information is on there. I recorded all I could. It was always when we were leaving our shifts, before you woke up. He had allies, sir.”

Goro didn’t hesitate putting in the data chip. He chose the first file he saw, one with Kenji very close to Imani.

The video played. Kenji had a venomous look in his eyes.

_“If you tell him, you’re both dead.”_

_“What is your endgame, Ikari-san?”_

_“Takemura-sama considered me a son. And now I languish here protecting her useless middle child, barely given a position even by bloodright. Wouldn't you knock out the competition, if you were me? Don’t you see how pitiful they are?”_

_“Takemura-san is not pitiful, nor are his brothers.”_

_“You’re soft on him," and Kenji gripped her shoulders. Imani pushed him back, standing and landing a punch with a sickening crack. Kenji looked up to her with a bloody, accusatory grin. "What is it? Do you believe he’ll protect you? He’s never protected us. You're nothing to him.”_

_“That’s not true, and you know it. It was just you he didn’t feel the need to.”_

_“Then why are so many of the men on my side? Explain that."_

_Kenji stood up, edging closer but Imani didn't budge._

_“You’ve blinded them with eddies to solve all their problems. It’s purely greed. We’re some of the highest paid body guards here. I made less working with--”_

_“Shut up!”_

Kenji rushed her with his fist, and the video goes black, and Goro was back at the main page. 

“Imani,” he said without thinking. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m saving you as much as myself,” she said, pain evident in her voice. “The punch took the recording offline. I had to fight pretty hard to get outta there. I knew that once he woke up, he’d come for you with his crew.”

“Where are we going?”

“I’m not sure yet,” she said quietly, shaking her head. “Out of NC, that’s for damn sure.”

\--

They cross border patrol without issue, and soon are driving into the desert night. Goro realized he had never been this far out, and Imani drove steadily with a tight grip on the wheel. Soon, he fell asleep, and was only woken up when Imani shook him awake.

“We’re here.”

The hotel is modest, clean enough but also distinctly low budget. The facade was covered with orange stucco, the awning a rusty shade of red that topped the double doors. 

Goro was used to the finer things in life, though he did take a brief detour into ‘understanding others’ by purposefully living in poverty. He made it a year before he was forced back for his first marriage.

The woman at the front desk was covered in tattoos, but friendly and asked no questions. Imani gave her a credit chip, and Goro noticed the fake name of “Genevive Andrews” pop up on the screen when scanned. 

“We only have one bed rooms available, but that shouldn’t be an issue for a couple like you,” the receptionist said with a surprisingly friendly chuckle.

She handed over the key cards to Imani and let them know their room was on the top floor, and they trudged up the steps with their bags to room 308. The room was somewhat dated, but didn’t smell like it had been a new home for anything disgusting. It had a small kitchen, which came across relatively pristine.

“Please get some rest, Takemura-san,” Imani urged as she locked the door.

“I already have. You know, I am not entirely useless. I was trained in martial arts from an early age. I know how to shoot. Please, rest yourself. I will keep vigil over _you_ , for a change.”

Imani’s face flashed several emotions in seconds, but she didn’t argue. She slipped off her shoes and got on top of the covers, rolling the blanket over herself half way to cover her legs. 

Goro sat at the table, still feeling his heart race as he watched the night turn to dawn. He watched the remaining videos intermittently, which only made him angrier.

\--

It is the next morning when Imani woke up that they headed down to the ‘continental buffet’ the hotel advertised. The majority of people there were old retirees, likely in the middle of a trip to elsewhere. It wasn’t entirely safe on the roads, even now, but some of them liked to pretend it was the times before the Collapse.

They take their food to go and hope no one recognized them. Imani had been more photographed than he ever had been, and it was unlikely the dazed locals could truly tell him apart from any other heavily modified Japanese man.

Imani and him eat their breakfast in silence in their room, and Goro noted her occasional trembling. 

“Did you sleep alright,” he asked, just to break the ongoing quiet.

“Yes, I did. Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you.”

Imani shook her head. “I am here to protect you, Take--”

“Please, call me Goro.”

Imani swallowed hard, but then curled the very ends of her lips into a smile. “I’m here to protect you, Goro. Even at the cost of my own life.”

“That is what the contract says. But we are on the run from your colleagues who broke it. It’s no longer our relationship.”

Imani nodded, taking a bite of her toast that seemed soggy. “I guess that’s true. So, I’m just a regular gal who saved your life?”

“If you would like to be.”

Imani shifted in her seat, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “I should just continue being your employee.”

“You never were. You worked for my family’s corporation. Not me. And given that any money transfers from my account to yours would look suspicious, we are on our own with only the emergency credits I have.”

Imani nodded. “Can I admit something?”

“Yes, please. You should feel comfortable talking to me.”

Imani took another deep breath. “I’m terrified.”

“I am too,” Goro said quietly. “We will need to rely on each other from now on.”

\--

Imani left for the store after breakfast, bringing back an assortment of foods to cook. Frozen vegetables, rice, various breads, protein bars, synth meats and eggs, some basic seasonings, and a bottle of wine. 

“Your usual was out of my price range,” she said in a warm tone, “so forgive me if this isn’t to your tastes.”

“Do you like it?"

“Yeah, it’s good enough for me.”

“Then I will learn to love it.”

Imani laughed, a brief laugh but a laugh nonetheless, and it’s a melody he wished he could commit to song. 

Goro cooked on the hotel set of cookware, managing to cook the rice to perfection in a pot of questionable integrity. He sauteed the ‘fish product’, the packaging said, in olive oil with garlic cloves he pressed under the knife.

“You’re very skilled in the kitchen,” Imani said sweetly.

“I’m sure you are just as talented, Miss Norwood.”

“You know, you can call me Imani if I can call you Goro.”

Once dinner is completed, Goro set the first plate in front of Imani at the dining table, before setting himself down. Her face biting into the mystery fish is elated, licking her lips. She relayed that it had been a while since she had the fish product, a meal she used to look forward to as a child.

“How old are you,” Goro asked curiously.

“Thirty three,” Imani said, suddenly wary. She ate slowly, savoring each bite.

“You started this line of work young, then.”

Imani nodded. “I grew up in Austin, my parents were nomads. You grow up knowin’ two things, how to shoot and how to fight. My first bodyguard gig was when I was 15.”

“You’ve lived a life,” he said.

“You have as well. Just a far more posh one,” she said with a joking tone.

"Your parents…"

"They're dead," and she tensed, frowning slightly. "Got caught in a firefight when I was fourteen. I tried to get over to them but kept getting pinned down by machine gun fire. They were fading fast by the time they got to the med. Dad went first at the hospital, Mom held out for a few days with a collapsed lung before she took a turn for the worse. Brandi and I stayed with the clan for a few more years, but we had to leave. Couldn't shake that we could be next."

"I'm sorry."

Imani shook her head, blinking quickly to hide her tears. "I miss them."

"What happened to your sister?"

"She lives in Seattle. I told her I'd be disappearing for a while, said to only call if someone called her saying I was dead."

Goro nodded, understanding Imani more than she presumed.

\--

They fall into a new routine over the next days. Goro recieved a text from his second brother, Akira. He reassured him that the matter would be handled, but Kenji had gone fare deeper underground than presumed. "Wherever you are, stay there."

He noticed how Imani dressed, unburdened by uniform. Loose jeans and dresses, somehow having a holster that suited them. He saw more of her cyberware, silver lines in her skin. Her muscled arms, her full bosom, her long legs.

They talked and ate together, the conversation varying again and again. Their very different childhoods, their exes, her hobbies, his worries. He could read between her lines, realizing that the one thing she could ever want was safety.

He figured out all of her scents and her routine. She showered at night and always wrapped her hair up in a satiny turban. Her body wash was called "honey almond", her lotion unscented but only accented her sweetness.

They took turns sleeping, looking out for each other. Imani even let him use her gun, though he didn't feel like he would need to shoot. Goro investigated it one night, noticing the chips in the handle and grip.

\--

It was a week later when Goro kissed Imani. He had already cleaned up and thanked her for a lovely meal, and realized too late that he had pulled her close.

She didn’t push him away or resist, instead putting her arms on his shoulders. They are closer in height barefoot, but she is still a head taller than him.

She moaned against his lips, her lip balm tasting like mint against the spices on her tongue. She was nothing like he expected, her scent so strong as he breathed her in. 

Goro undid his shirt as he guided her hand across his bare chest, his skin relishing the touch. It had been years, not since his last wife left him. He had felt broken and aimless since, five long years that he had yet to really overcome.

Imani was beautiful, every inch of her, and he pushed her against the bare counter and pulled off her jacket. Goro kissed her neck and shoulders, pulling off her tank top to leave her in a surprisingly delicate bra. 

“Goro--”, she sighed, a moan cracking into whatever else she wished to say. He came back up to face her and kiss her again, hands softly kneading her breasts. He had never had a woman like her, unable to hold back touching her soft skin, relishing the ability to press his fingers into her flesh.

In a spot of a sensible idea, Goro took her hands and lead her back to the bed, Imani’s eye still betraying her nerves. He laid her down and continued to undress her, removing her pants and underwear at the same time. Her legs have stubble and so does between them, but he had never cared about that. 

He spread her wider and delved in with his lips and tongue, enjoying the symphony that came out of her mouth. Her taste was exquisite to him, taking long sucks to commit it to memory. Her fingers grazed the back of his head and neck and soon run through his hair, grabbing fistfuls but not pulling. He undid his hair tie and she dragged her fingers on his scalp, making him groan.

She didn’t last long at all, tensing all around him as she came against his lips, slipping two fingers inside of her at the last possible moment. A gasp of alarm escaped from her lips and she moaned softly, shaking underneath him.

\--

It was the next day when Goro received a text. “Kenji is dead.”

The next picture is a photo of Kenji’s corpse, bloodied but distinctly him. 

Goro took note of who sent the photo, and it is from his eldest brother, Tatsuyo.

A pang of regret goes through his body. He did not want it to end like this, but realized it had to happen. He turned and looked at Imani. She was still asleep, now dressed in a t-shirt and new underwear after they had cleaned up last night. 

He would never forget how right she felt around him, the way she moved her hips in motion with his, the breathless way she said his name and kissed him. Her soft but calloused hands intertwining with his. Her back arched against his hands as he buried his final groan into her shoulder.

But it was a fantasy, however brief, of a life that duty would not allow him to hold.

\--

It was two weeks back when Goro felt resigned to his fate, pouring himself into work and unable to see Imani frequently. His security detail was all new, a mixture of people. The all-Japanese demographic likely caused the issue, his mother urged, and the diversity was needed. His new head of security, Jones, was a serious looking but thin man. 

When he did see her, their relationship was just as before, though she now looked at him directly on occasion. She couldn’t share his bed but he resolved it was for the best. She was a much younger beautiful woman, either way. The world was hers, and so was anyone in it.

He was an old man who had gotten a sliver of joy from her tenacity and bravery, and crossed a line the very night he kissed her.

“Miss Norwood,” he said half-way through his daily drive to the gym. He was glad he always sat in the front seat. But now he had to resist reaching out to her, touching her.

“Yes, Takemura-san?” Her eyes don't move off the road.

“Forgive me.”

“For what,” she said, a laugh evident in her tone.

“For kissing you.”

Imani drove quietly for a few long moments. “Why would you need to apologize?”

“I crossed a line with you. I didn’t even ask if you would like to.”

She sighed. “I’ve been wanting to since we first met.”

“Really?” What any 30-something would see in him baffled Goro. 

Imani nodded. “I applied to just be a part of the security detail, but I didn’t know who. When they told me, I looked you up. Not much info, though. But there was one photo in an article...and it stuck with me. You looked just as good in real life.”

The compliment was unexpected. He wasn't sure if she had ever made her attraction to him verbally known.

“I am happy I did not disappoint you.”

“It’s very silly.”

“That is fine by me.”

“Goro--I mean--”

“Goro is fine, we are alone.”

“I can’t stop thinking about our nights together. I--miss it.”

They were pulling into the gym parking lot now, and Imani parked effortlessly, as she always did. 

“I cannot, either. But, Imani,” and he tried to sound as tender as possible, “I cannot--”

“I know. I know,” she said softly. “Family and corporation and duty. It’s what you’ve been born into.”

“I can apologize for that, at least.”

“You don’t have to,” Imani said, voice cracking.

\--

It was two days later when Goro realized he loved Imani.

He wouldn’t have felt this way if he wasn’t in love, he assured himself. She was in his waking thoughts over and over again. It wasn’t just their sexual intimacy, but their personal intimacy. In his head, he would think about their long conversations. Her charm, when she showed it, was infectious. Her body language, the way she smiled. Her voice, rich like a retro femme fatale. Her hair, her nails, her _everything_ that seemed to catch his eye. The warm feeling he suddenly had in his chest would not go away.

It woke him up on the third night, with Imani wandering the halls of his home. Goro slipped out of bed, Imani pacing the living room with a glass of water in hand.

“Go back to bed, Takemura-san,” she said, scolding him gently.

“I cannot until I see you.”

And see, he did. Her dark lipstick left a kiss print on the glass, and her tie was slightly undone, exposing more of her neck. The kohl around her eyes simply enhanced her beauty. He noted her braids were different, but he wasn’t quite sure how.

“You’ve seen me,” Imani said with a shrug.

Goro stepped closer to her, putting a hand on her hip. Under his touch, she melted only a bit. Goro pressed them flush together, his height perfect to breathe in all of her. A soft, slight moan escaped her lips, and he wanted to hold her for longer.

“Goro--I need to keep working.”

“Yes, of course,” and he stepped back, letting her traverse the bay windows and closely look into the view of Night City.

“Couldn’t sleep? Not typical for you.”

“I have had a great deal on my mind.”

“Yeah?”, she said absentmindedly, apparently satisfied that the windows were safe.

“About you...us, if you will.”

Imani walked through the center of the living room, away from Goro, her shoulders tensing just slightly.

“There isn’t an us, I presumed.”

“There can be. But…”

“Cataclysmic?”

Goro nodded as Imani circled the kitchen, taking a final sip of her glass before setting it onto the granite kitchen island.

“You seem to like that word," he noted. A violent upheaval, an overwhelming shift.

“It’s a powerful word,” she elaborated. “It makes the world so fragile, able to shake apart.”

Goro hummed in appreciation. “Your time with Mr. Eurodyne made you philosophical?”

Imani laughed. “Kerry’s the king of big changes. He just disappears sometimes, comes back realigned and enlightened. I envied him.”

“And why did you leave?”

“I didn’t want to,” she assured, checking the front door and camera feeds again. “His dumbass label cheaped out and got him second rate guards for events, dudes who worked as bouncers at best. And those robodogs around his house.”

“A large potential for mess and misses.”

“That’s what we said,” she laughed. “If you’re questioning if Kerry and I had a thing, or me and Lizzy, we didn’t. Lizzy’s about her art, and Kerry...let’s just say we aren’t each other’s type.”

“But you were with someone else...at some earlier point?”

“Ages ago, but he’s a nobody now.” 

“How did that end?”

“Not so good. I was 23, and while I knew a lot about protecting people, I didn’t have anyone looking out for me.”

“I--I apologize.”

There is a long pause before Imani spoke again. “I missed what you gave me, your trust, conversation, your _touch_ ,” and she fiddled with her loose tie. “I want it again. I don’t exactly get a chance to go out and date people with my schedule.” She shifted again, the moonlight encasing her in it’s white glow. “I wouldn’t want to. Is it selfish to say I just---want you?”

Goro shook his head, traversing the living room without a second thought. He took her in his arms, and she sniffled softly against him.

\--

It was two weeks later when Goro retired from Kendachi. 

He was third in line and not eager to wait for when his parents would pass. Daichi’s imaginary future children would likely be grown by then.

Imani tendered her resignation a few days after their tearful embrace, citing the lingering issues with Kenji. She provided video and audio of their consistent fights, and mentioned she was unable to provide the best services to the Kendachi Corporation. Though he was dead, it didn't erase her memories, nor did she want to risk her mind trying to do so.

Though her replacement was a friendly man named Carter, he was not Imani.

The day he sent it, Goro knew what he wanted to do. But he had no idea where Imani lived, having to find her personnel file to find her modest apartment. It was on the opposite side of town. The building was nice, but needed a keycard to get into.

He reassured himself that it must have been fate when Imani left the doors. She was dressed for a night out, her high heels and tight red latex dress only intensifying the strong curves of her body. A wave of desire washed over him.

“Goro?”

The soft tapping of her heels on the concrete somehow teased him more. And then she was in front of him again, his eyeline only filled with her chest.

“I’ve done something reckless,” he muttered, looking upward at her face. He was flushed with a mix of desire and urgency. “Come with me before I realize I should regret it.”

She wasn't dressed to drive and he didn't make her. He cannot help but put his hand on her thigh as she trembled, texting frantically for a few moments.

"Am I scaring you?

"A little."

He rubbed her thigh reassuringly, and Imani put her hands over his. 

They drove to the beach, quiet but beautiful. He held her waist as she explained her plans for the night, to get out and away from it all. Goro asked if she wanted to leave Night City behind, even just for a while, and she nodded, her smile still gentle. 

\--

Imani sat on their large beach blanket, her cyberware shimmering in contrast to her skin mattefied by sunscreen, her wide-brimmed sun hat covering her face from the rays. Her green two piece emphasized her long legs, covering most of her torso besides the peek of skin between the bra top and briefs. She looked like she had always belonged amongst the sand and sea.

“It’s beautiful here. I've never been to Okinawa.”

He was aware of how it looked. Improprietous, a mix of business and pleasure that should have never taken place. But the beach was busy, children and families playing, friends blasting music. Imani and him were just another set of faces.

“We are able to free ourselves of unneeded duties. I wished to take you somewhere where we could be ourselves."

“For now. What about when--"

Goro shook his head. He didn't want to start on the clean up yet. He had set aside a full week where they could just be a couple.

Imani picked a sandwich out of their _konbini_ haul, pointing it at him with raised eyebrows. Goro took a bite, only realizing mid-chew it was an egg sandwich. She liked them more than he ever did.

"You'd be a good nomad. Rejecting everything and setting out your own path. Loyalty is good out on the road, too.”

Goro smiled as he finished his bite. “I do not believe I would be as good as you.”

Imani kissed him gently on the mouth. “Charmer.”

“I am only speaking the truth,” he reassured her. “I love you.”

Imani took the other half of the sandwich for herself, looking oddly shy as she chewed.

“You look cute.”

Imani smiled as she swallowed her food, looking away from him. “I’m not cute.”

“You are now,” Goro said softly, putting his fingers under her jaw and turning her face to him. 

“I love you, too." She had said the night before, wrapped in his arms before she fell asleep. "I feel like--this is all my fault, though.”

“I have done everything I wanted to do with you. You have led me into nothing. From the day we kissed, until now and beyond. Hold no regrets." He smiled weakly. "Humor an old man.”

Goro took her hand, and she intertwined their fingers together. Imani glowed, every centimeter of her face. He pushed aside his worries and focused on her heartbeat, remembering she was real.

The next cataclysm could wait.


End file.
